


the only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it

by likecharity



Category: Chronicles of Narnia RPF
Genre: Age Difference, Awkwardness, Crush, F/M, Masturbation, Older Man/Younger Woman, Sexual Frustration, Underage Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-01
Updated: 2010-12-01
Packaged: 2017-11-10 20:34:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/470420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likecharity/pseuds/likecharity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Ben has always been like an older brother to her, just like Will, and she never could have imagined even seeing him this way—let alone having this reaction to it. She would have, perhaps, expected to have felt somewhat revolted, as though she had just stumbled across a nude family member by mistake. But it's not like that. It's not like that at all.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	the only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it

**Author's Note:**

> Georgie is fourteen in this. I think the bit where they first turn up in Narnia was actually one of the first scenes filmed, not one of the last. Aaand I'm sure Ben has been pretty naked in some of his other movies, but for the sake of this fic, let's ignore those things. Also I feel like the end of this fic is kind of a cockblock, but it just felt right. I'm sure I'll be writing lots more of this pairing anyway... And finally, um, sorry, Oscar Wilde. SIGH.

_Dorian Gray_ is released in the UK two months before it reaches Australia. Will and Anna saw it together, Will mentions to Georgie one day in a catch-up phone call he makes to see how filming is going.

"Oh! How was it? Was he good?" Georgie asks excitedly.

Will stammers a few flustered words about Ben's acting, and then something about cinematography that Georgie doesn't quite catch.

"Ooh, hang on, you can tell him yourself if you want, he just walked past my trailer," Georgie interrupts, leaping up from her bed.

"No!" Will cries, so abruptly that Georgie almost drops the phone on her own foot. "No," he says again, only slightly more calm this time, "that's fine, I-I-I sent him a text."

"O...kay."

A pause.

"Incidentally," Will says. "You weren't, um, planning to see the movie yourself, were you?"

"Well," says Georgie, "he's kind of forbidden us, but I think Skandar and Will—other Will, not you, obviously—are planning to sneak out and see it anyway when it comes out here. I might go with them."

"Isn't it a 15 there too?" Will asks, and Georgie detects a curious note of panic in his voice.

"I don't know, I think it's one of those ones where you can see it if you're underage as long as you've got an adult with you, so Skandar could be my adult," Georgie says, reeling off her plan and only just then realising that she has one. 

Will laughs nervously, and then goes quiet for a bit.

"What?" Georgie whines. "What? Why don't you want me to see it? I read the book when he got the part, you know, and I don't remember there being anything that..."

"Did he say anything else when he forbade you?" Will interrupts.

"No...I think he's just being modest," Georgie says. "He probably doesn't want everyone on set to see it and then keep going on about how good it was, you know."

"Ah—yes, that'll be it," says Will, doubtfully. "Um. Listen. How about...don't see it, okay? Wait until it's out on DVD. And then until you're eighteen. Possibly twenty."

"What? _Why?_ "

"It's for the best," Will assures her. "Can I talk to Skandar now?"

"No! Not if you're going to get him to stop me seeing it as well," Georgie pouts.

"I'm not! I just—" There's a pause, and it dawns on Georgie that perhaps Will is planning on forbidding _Skandar_ from seeing it.

" _Skandar's_ eighteen now, you can't stop him."

"I know, I wasn't going to, I was just going to—you know—"

"What?"

"...warn him."

**

Georgie hears the boys outside her trailer. It's past ten, and everybody's already gone to bed, but she had a sneaking suspicion they'd be planning on doing this without her and stayed awake to keep an ear out. And it turns out she was right to do so. 

"I'm not sure I actually want to do this," Will P. is saying as Georgie sneaks up to them in her fuzzy slippers and dressing gown. "After what Will said to you..."

"It'll be fine," says Skandar, trying to force Will P. into a jacket and nudge him along the path at the same time. "It'll give us new things to tease Ben about. It'll be fun. Come on."

Will P. relents, trudging away after a triumphant Skandar, and Georgie trots up to them, calling.

"Hey! Hey, what about me?"

Skandar swears under his breath and turns around. "I can't take you, I've been forbidden."

"We've _all_ been forbidden," Georgie points out, hands on her hips. "If you're going, I get to go too. Besides, I need you there as my responsible adult."

Both of them ignore the snort this gets from Will P.

"I'm sorry, Georgie," Skandar says with a shrug. "We'll tell you all about it when we get back." Will P. gives him a look of alarm. "Okay, maybe not _all_ about it."

Georgie stamps her feet, not caring if she's being childish. "This isn't _fair_ , why does everybody get to see it except me?"

At this, Skandar does actually look a little more sympathetic. He thinks for a moment. "You know," he says, "if you managed to sneak out and see it on your own...I couldn't be held responsible."

"That's true," says Georgie, liking the sound of this.

"You'd just have to try and look a bit older," Skandar says.

"And get to the cinema and back on your own without Ben noticing," Will adds.

"I can do that."

Skandar checks his watch. "We have to go," he says. "But there's another showing on Saturday."

"This conversation never happened," says Will, tapping the side of his nose.

**

"How was it?" Georgie whispers, quizzing the boys about the film over breakfast while Ben is off getting some cereal.

Will P. groans vaguely, and Skandar says nothing, munching bleakly on some toast. Even with a thick layer of Nutella spread over it, it doesn't seem to be cheering him up. They both look absolutely exhausted, due to not getting back until after midnight and the fact that it's a 6 o'clock start this morning.

"Oh no," Georgie says, her heart sinking. "Was it really bad? What are you going to tell him?"

"We're not telling him anything, as far as he knows we never saw it," Skandar replies firmly.

"And it wasn't bad," Will adds. "It was rather good actually. It's just...well..."

He trails off and, annoyingly, takes a sip of juice instead of ending his sentence.

"What?" Georgie hisses.

Ben is starting to head over to the table, bowl in hand.

"There's just," Will says, "there's a lot of, you know..."

"Spit it out, Poulter," Georgie snaps in exasperation.

"He's very _naked_ ," Will blurts out, cheeks flushing, and Georgie draws back, startled.

" _Naked?_ " she repeats, dumbfounded.

"Well—not like—I mean he's not _actually_ —you don't _see_ , you know," Will stammers, and then does an awkward gesture at what Georgie presumes is his own crotch, though it's under the table so she can't see. "But it's very...how do they say it on the backs of DVDs? There's a lot of uhm, sexual content." He frowns. "Graphic," he adds thoughtfully. "It's quite graphic sexual content."

Skandar groans. "Stop it," he says, sinking further into his Nutella. "You're bringing back memories."

Luckily, Ben has forgotten something and turned back, so Georgie has a bit of extra time to process this. She doesn't know what to say. She didn't realise _that_ would be the reason for everybody's skittishness, and suddenly the ban placed on the movie takes on a different significance now.

"Is that—is that why he didn't want us to see it?" she asks.

"Yes, and I wish we'd listened," says Skandar, "I don't think I can look him in the eye ever again."

"It can't be _that_ bad."

Skandar fixes her with a stare. "This isn't just the occasional sex scene," he says darkly. "There are whole sex _montages_."

Georgie blinks at him. He adds a shudder for good measure.

"God, I wish I'd listened to Will," Skandar laments, and then takes on a harsher tone of voice and tells her, "Just—don't see it. You really don't want to see it."

"See what?" Ben asks, as he reappears and slides onto the bench beside Georgie.

Will P. has a sudden fit of coughing, and Skandar gets to his feet hurriedly, pulling Will up with him. He hasn't even finished his toast.

" _New Moon_ ," he lies easily, and Georgie notices that he is, indeed, not looking Ben in the eye. "It's terrible."

With that, they're gone, and Ben is left looking at Georgie in confusion.

"Well, why would anyone think otherwise?" he asks, frowning to himself. "They're weird this morning."

"They...didn't get much sleep," Georgie tells him, and can't help but feel a little uncomfortable in his presence herself. And she hasn't even _seen_ the film yet.

Her brain picks up on the 'yet', and she realises that she does actually still want to see it, sex montages or no sex montages. It's a big film, with Ben as the title character, and she likes to try and see the movies her co-stars are in. She is a fan, after all, and she wants to support him.

And besides, Skandar and Will are _boys_ , who probably have more reason to feel awkward about seeing Ben in sex scenes than she does. It won't have helped that they went to see it together, either—that sort of thing is always awkward when you're with somebody else. And other-Will went to see it with Anna, too, so that would explain his reaction.

She'll cope. She'll go on her own, and she'll focus on the film as a whole and appreciate the plot and Ben's acting rather than getting weird about a little bit of nudity. She'll be more mature than all of them. Maybe she'll even congratulate Ben on his performance afterwards, casual and sincere. And it'll reassure him that not _everyone_ will freak out if he does something other than a PG movie.

**

Yeah. It doesn't really work out that way. 

Sneaking out is pretty easy—she just goes on a day off, to the Saturday showing Skandar told her about. Everybody else seems to have plans, but she leaves Skandar a note just in case anyone gets worried.

 _Gone to see DG,_ it reads, _cover for me._

And getting into the cinema is easy too. She puts on a bit of make-up and some high heels she finds in the costume department, ties her hair back too, and nobody really gives her a second look. 

It's from that moment on that things start to go downhill.

Well, not downhill _exactly_ , but certainly not as she expects. She understands the boys' awkwardness, their vague responses to her questions, but it might have been nice if they'd given her a _little_ bit more warning. 

Because no, it's not just the occasional sex scene, but it's not just sex montages either. It's _orgy_ montages. It's scene after scene of Ben being stripped naked, blindfolded, caressed and laid back on beds to have girls straddle him, ride him as he stares up at them. It's scenes of Ben cutting a girl's underwear off with a knife, pulling a girl's knickers down before he presses her face-first up against a stone wall and has sex with her. He kisses _boys_ , too, pushes one to his knees before unbuttoning his own trousers and joining him on the floor. He has sex with a woman while her daughter hides under the bed; he's choked and slapped; he has sex covered in blood.

Even if she had been warned, she doesn't think she could have anticipated her reaction. It's always strange seeing people she knows in real life on a cinema screen, but she usually finds it quite easy to accept the person as the character they're playing, and get caught up in the story. But for some reason, the moment the first sex scene comes around, he's _Ben_ again, and she's watching him, naked, between a woman's legs, leaning down over her. Because it doesn't matter that he's playing a character—it's still _Ben's_ body that she's seeing, his long slender torso, the curve of his bottom, his strong naked thighs—what's between them only hidden by the girl's strategically-placed knee.

Afterwards, there's a shot of him in the mirror, the camera panning up his naked back, and Georgie sweats in her seat, eyes on the slight dip of his spine and the wings of his shoulder blades, his flawless tanned skin and the way she can see the muscles move beneath it. She can't help but feel a strange tingle inside, a feeling she's still not used to and doesn't quite know what to do with. When the camera reaches Ben's face, she feels her cheeks redden further, because it's a face she knows so, so well. Ben has always been like an older brother to her, just like Will, and she never could have imagined even seeing him this way—let alone having this reaction to it. She would have, perhaps, expected to have felt somewhat revolted, as though she had just stumbled across a nude family member by mistake.

But it's not like that. It's not like that at all.

The next scene is the one that's the worst, the one that really sticks with her. It's with a girl who doesn't look much older than Georgie herself, and Ben is pouring wine between her lips, pressing rows of kisses down her stomach, licking the alcohol from the skin between her breasts. The scene replays in her mind as she's leaving the cinema in a daze. On her way back to set, she finds these scenes are the only ones she remembers, the rest of the film a blur to her. She can't even think about whether or not Ben did a good job, because all she can think of is his _body_ , and the way he kisses, her mind full of images of his tongue trailing lines across bare skin and his long legs intertwining with others.

Her knickers are wet. She can feel it, sitting there on the bus with the dampness beginning to cool between her legs. But each time she pictures Ben, another flash of heat sends a shudder right _there_ , and she clenches her thighs together tightly, staring out of the window and trying to get things under control.

She feels _guilty_ for having seen him this way, and for the way it's affecting her. Like she shouldn't be thinking of him like this. She's sure he'd be horrified (after all, he did forbid her from seeing the film) and now she's even more sure that he should never find out. God, if he _knew_ what she'd seen...

Her brain is all over the place. Suddenly, she feels jealous of the actresses Ben did those scenes with. Then, she feels jealous of the girls Ben's been with in real life. _She_ wants to know what it's like kiss him, to feel his hair tickle her chest as he runs his tongue down her skin, what it's like to wrap her legs around his waist...

Her face goes hot as once again, thoughts of _real_ -Ben instead of movie-Ben flash into her mind. She thinks of the other day when they went out to a restaurant for dinner, and how it was so busy that there weren't enough spaces for them all to sit down as they waited for a table. The boys, typically, claimed their seats first, and Georgie was left pouting with her hands on her hips until Ben gestured to his lap and she obliged without a second thought. She always used to sit on his lap—and Will's—when she was younger, so it didn't seem like it meant anything.

And it _didn't_ , at the time, she reminds herself. But now, it does. To her, at least. Now, she remembers how she was perched on his knees at first but gradually slipped back into the warmth of his lap, how he would lean forward and rest his chin on her shoulder in order to be able to see everyone else. It's amazing, she thinks, how it didn't mean a thing to her at the time and now she's getting flustered just thinking about it. 

Oh, God. She's never going to be able to sit on his lap again. She's not even sure she'll be able to have any physical contact with him, ever again.

**

By the time she gets back, it's raining. She makes the mistake of glancing into the window of Ben's trailer as she passes it on the way to her own, and spots him and the others all sitting on Ben's bed. They gesture somewhat frantically at her to come in from the downpour.

"We were just about to start, but nobody remembers how to play, and the rules are missing," Ben informs her. 

She nods a little weakly. He's sitting on his bed, cross-legged with his back against the wall. Seeing him on a bed instantly brings on a new bout of inappropriate feelings, and Georgie falters. He looks bright and cheerful in jeans and a green sweater, and it's a little odd to see him in such an outfit (and contemporary setting) so soon after seeing him gallivanting around in Victorian times. God, she hasn't had so much trouble separating a film and reality since she was seven and _Monsters Inc._ came out and she was convinced that if she waited up all night, eventually a big blue fuzzy creature by the name of Sully would come out of her closet. (She wasn't afraid of this perceived eventuality. She just wanted to meet him and hang out.)

Skandar gets up from his spot on the bed and helps himself to a Coke from Ben's fridge. "It's pretty self-explanatory, isn't it?" he says.

"I don't remember, I haven't played it in years," Ben shrugs. "Maybe Georgie can help?"

And then he scoots over on the bed and pats the space beside him, grinning at her. For a moment she's frozen, and then she takes a deep breath and removes her shoes, tossing them into a pile of the others'. Hesitantly, her heart somehow managing to be in her throat and the pit of her stomach simultaneously, she clambers onto the bed next to Ben. 

Skandar turns round at this moment and sees what his getting up has facilitated, and shoots Georgie an apologetic look before joining them again. It's not a very large bed, so this has the effect of pushing Georgie closer towards Ben. They're touching. She's not sure she can cope. She hunches over, bending her knees and bringing them in towards her face, wrapping her arms around her legs. She catches Will's eye, and he nods in a sort of sympathetic and knowing way.

"Hey," Ben says, tilting his head, his voice low and gentle in her ear. "Last time you played Monopoly?"

She is one hundred per cent incapable of recalling that right now. "I—I don't remember."

"Let's just throw the dice and buy property and see what happens," Skandar suggests.

"Sounds good to me," says Will.

A pause.

"Just out of curiosity," says Skandar, "where _are_ the dice?"

While the two of them rummage around in the large plastic box they've dragged into Ben's trailer, that apparently contains nothing but incomplete games, Ben puts his hand on Georgie's leg. She's wearing cropped leggings and he is actually touching her bare skin, his hand curling around her shin with one thumb stroking gently. She's so completely and utterly overwhelmed by this, mind racing and nerves on fire, that in no way does she register what he actually says.

He leans in to say it in her ear, but even then it takes her a moment, because all she can focus on is warm breath and the proximity of his mouth to her skin and how she's pretty sure she can feel his lips brush her ear.

"Hey. You okay?"

Georgie tries to take a deep breath but it ends up very shallow and shaky. She stares down at Ben's large hand still gently curved over her leg and all she can do is picture it sliding up, up. She imagines letting her legs fall open as he trails his fingers along the inside of her thigh until they reach the place where she's hot and wet and aching for him.

"Georgie," Ben murmurs, sounding concerned, and oh god, hearing him say her name like that is making her want to _squirm_.

"I—" she says, and then manages to add (not entirely sure where she's going with the sentence), "need—"

And then she makes the mistake of looking up at his face, into his dark eyes, and that's when she can't stand it anymore and finds herself dashing from the trailer, not even stopping to put on her shoes, just running out into the rain barefoot across cold wet tarmac until she reaches her own trailer.

She throws herself down on her bed, ignoring the dirty footprints she gets on the sheets, and pulls off her jacket. She feels like she's burning up, despite the chilly weather. She thinks part of it is that she's blushing, red-faced for leaving like that, for not being able to cope with a simple touch from someone she's known for nearly three years.

God, that _touch_ though. And the way he spoke to her. She almost whimpers, closing her eyes and pulling her pillow down over her head, pressing it to her face. How did this _happen?_ She's barely had feelings like this for anyone before, not anywhere near this strong. And for it to be _Ben_...

She realises she has one leg hitched up awkwardly, her hand wrapped around it the way Ben's was, absentmindedly stroking at the skin with her fingers. It feels as though he's left a mark there, as though she can still feel him touching her. She wonders what it would be like for him to touch her in other places, with those big hands, his long slender fingers on her body, her bare skin...

With a sigh, she grabs the pillow and throws it across the room. 

She lets go of her guilt and her worry for exactly six minutes. And then, soon after, a second time, for just under four.

Lying on her bed with one hand still down the front of her leggings, the other tucked inside a thin cotton triangle of bra cup, and her dress yanked up around her waist and shoved down off one shoulder, she reflects on how much better she feels. 

That may have been pretty much one of the best things she's ever experienced, but unfortunately, it turns out it does little to quell her frustration.

**

Over the next couple of weeks, it only gets worse. Georgie finds that the only way she can actually do her job without exploding into a fiery ball of sexual desire is to pretend like Ben doesn't exist. She does what Skandar did, and avoids looking Ben in the eye. (By this time, the boys are over it, which momentarily gives Georgie hope until she remembers that they weren't affected by the film in quite the same way she was.) Pretty much the only things she says to him are the things Lucy says to Caspian, and a few choice monosyllabic responses to his questions. It's really only one question these days now, though—the repeated "are you okay?" that he asked her right after she saw the movie, when he had his hand on her leg and therefore she most definitely _wasn't._

She can't even really feel that bad about it, because it seems like it's the only thing she can do. Even when she's trying to ignore him, she catches herself gazing at him sometimes, eyes tracing the shape of his lips and wondering what it would be like to feel them on her own, or admiring the way his arms look in that shirt he's wearing. She can't help it. But at least it's easier on her emotions than actually interacting with him, because it seems that when _that_ happens, she works herself up into a frenzy and has to go and excuse herself for a few minutes.

It's pretty much bearable, though, doing things this way, until one day nearly two weeks after she saw the movie, they're filming the scene where Lucy, Edmund, and Eustace are rescued from the ocean and brought on board the Dawn Treader for the first time. In this scene, it's Caspian who saves Lucy, which means it's Ben who dives into the water tank and wraps his arms around her, helping her to swim towards the ship.

Even in a tank full of fairly cold water, she's pretty sure she's sweating.

He pulls her in close under the water, so that their bodies are flush against each other, their wet clothing the only barrier. He holds her, strong arm wrapped around her skinny waist as they make their way towards the platform that has been lowered from the ship into the water. He's looking at her, grinning and playful, and she can't stick to her plan this time—finds herself smiling back at him as they bob and float in the water together. He splashes her, and she shrieks with laughter and splashes him back. She hangs onto him, fingers gripping the fabric of his sodden shirt by his hip, and he grins at her, so happy, all white teeth and wet hair plastered across his forehead. She laughs at him, tries to smooth it back, and he flicks water in her face. She forgets about the cameras.

It would almost feel like it used to—like she's just messing around with the older brother she never had, having fun, playing in the water—but there are little bursts of these new, different feelings when he grips her waist and she feels his fingers through the thin wool of her soaked cardigan, or when he pulls her closer and she feels the rough hair of his beard against her skin. But it feels exciting, like there are sparks between them, like here in the water anything could happen.

It's only when they're on the platform, being lifted up towards the ship, that things seem real again. She's drenched and shivering, standing small beside him and pretending not to notice the way his shirt has gone see-through from the water. And then he puts an arm around her—a motion that is not in the script—curling his fingers around her waist. She turns to look at him in surprise, and realises she can see _everything_ through his dripping wet shirt—his chest heaving with each breath, his flat stomach, the dip of his navel, his nipples pointed from the cold, even the slight outline of his ribs. His trousers cling to his skin, too, and she can see the bulge between his legs. She flushes hotly, gripping the rope in her hand, and her next line vanishes completely from her mind.

"Oh, thanks," Skandar mutters to her sarcastically as they set up the scene for the second time. "We have to do the whole almost-drowning bit again?"

"I'm sorry," she whines. "I just—it's Ben, I'm still finding it—you know—"

"The dying inside feeling only lasts a few days," says Skandar grumpily. "I managed to block the whole movie from my mind within a week. What's your excuse?"

 _You don't want to know,_ Georgie thinks.

**

By the third take, they have enough to cut and paste and make the scene work, so the actors are allowed to go warm up and dry off. Skandar and Will P. disappear to get everyone some hot cocoa, and Georgie sits on the sofa, leaving a damp spot on it and not caring, shivering under an enormous towel. 

Ben rubs another similarly enormous towel over his head until his hair is sticking out in various directions. This should make him look ridiculous, Georgie thinks, but instead he just looks hot—sort of scruffy and messy, and not at all like the drowned rat she feels she resembles. Ben tosses the towel over a chair and starts unbuttoning his shirt.

"Yeuch," he says, and Georgie stares open-mouthed as he takes the shirt off, peeling the soaked fabric from over his shoulders and struggling to get it down off his arms. He stretches, wriggling his arms behind his back with his chest thrust forwards, and Georgie can't stop thinking about how she wants to lick the droplets of water from his smooth tan skin.

Oh, god.

Ben manages to wrestle himself out of the shirt, and holds it up triumphantly like a kill, the fabric a dripping heap in his hand.

"Success!" he says, and then frowns. "Are you okay?"

All Georgie can do is swallow. She's thinking of taking a hot shower with him, of warming up naked beside a roaring fire.

"Oh god. You don't have hypothermia or something, do you?" Ben asks, and he's dropping the shirt and coming up to her— _coming up to her_ —with another giant towel, settling down beside her on the sofa and wrapping it around her shoulders. He rubs, trying to dry her hair. She's still staring straight ahead at where he was previously standing, because she's almost certain that if she looks at him close-up right now she might die.

"Are you dying?" Ben says, "please don't die."

A pause.

"You need to take off the wet clothes," he says, "that's a thing. To prevent hypothermia. You need to be dry and wearing at least seven jerseys. I read it in a first aid manual once. Hang on, is it okay if—?"

He pauses again, but she can't actually form any words right now and doesn't know what he's talking about anyway, so then all of a sudden he's unbuttoning her cardigan, fingers slipping against the wet plastic of the buttons and oh god, he's _undressing_ her, and she's sure he can tell that her heart is beating phenomenally fast right now because his hands keep brushing her chest and she can't deal with it, she can't, she can't—

"Dammit, it's times like this that Anna would be really helpful," Ben mutters, helping her out of the cardigan and then hesitating before going for her shoes and socks next. His fingers are quite warm against her freezing ankles and the touch of his hand along the arch of her foot makes her shudder.

When he looks back up, he seems quite flustered himself. "Are you—can you do the rest? Where are your dry clothes?"

Georgie opens her mouth, shakes her head, still unable to speak.

"Okay," Ben says. "Put mine on. I'll find some more."

He pats a pile of clothing on the table beside them, and then jumps up from the sofa. He doesn't look at her as he says, "I'll be back in five minutes. I just need to—take these...trousers off." Hurriedly, he adds, "I'll see if I can find a hot water bottle or something," and then he's gone.

It's at least another minute and a half before Georgie manages to actually get up. She's starting to regain her awareness of just how cold and damp she actually is, and is leaving her Ben-induced daze. When she stands, she catches sight of herself in a small mirror on the other side of the tent and immediately flushes with embarrassment as she realises Ben's shirt wasn't the only one to go practically transparent. Previously covered by her cardigan, it wasn't noticeable, but now the outline of her bra and the small swell of her breasts are obviously visible, and her nipples are hard from the cold and almost poking through the thin fabric. 

She swears under her breath, unbuttoning the shirt in a hurry and quite violently. In seconds, she's standing there in nothing but wet bra and knickers, staring at the pile of Ben's clothes. She can't keep this underwear on—it's freezing and soaked just like the rest of her costume. But she can't not wear _any_ , surely. Not in someone else's clothes. Not in _Ben's_ clothes. She honestly can't remember where she put her own this morning, and she can't get back to her trailer like this. _Fuck._

"Georgie?" comes Skandar's voice just then from outside. "We come bearing cocoa. You dressed?"

"Just a minute!" Georgie shouts back, suddenly and decisively tearing off her bra and knickers and pulling on Ben's clothes. 

It's a pair of knee-length shorts that almost reach her ankles, and a t-shirt and a soft cosy sweater that both smell like him. She pulls the neck of the sweater up over her nose and inhales, sinking down onto the arm of the sofa. She squirms slightly, feeling his clothes against her bare skin everywhere, the seam in the crotch of his shorts between her legs. 

"Georgiiiie," Skandar calls again, and Georgie leaps up.

"Done!"

"Interesting fashion choices," Skandar remarks when he comes in with the cocoa, and Will P. in tow.

"They're Ben's," Georgie says, rolling her eyes. She kicks the discarded costume pieces into a pile on the floor.

"I think this movie is making you develop a habit of cross-dressing," Skandar teases, but she can tell he feels bad for berating her earlier because he's brought her two biscuits to have with her cocoa.

"Where is Ben, by the way?" Will P. asks. "He wandered past shirtless earlier, I'm not sure where he was going."

"He went to find some clothes, I think," Georgie says, pulling the cuffs of the too-big sweater up into her fists.

"What, because you stole his?" Skandar snorts. "Thanks for not alerting me to Ben's shirtlessness, by the way," he says to Will P., "it might have brought on some flashbacks."

"Yeah..." says Will P., wrinkling his nose. "How are you doing with that, by the way?" he asks Georgie. "Do you still get that awful awkward feeling when you talk to him? Are you able to look at knives again yet?"

"Knives?" Skandar enquires, chewing on a biscuit.

Will P. grimaces. "You know—that scene, with the—" he looks rather pained, and makes a gesture of someone suddenly slicing something in the air. "Knife. And that woman's...undergarments."

Skandar makes a face and puts down his biscuit, and Georgie stifles a giggle into the sleeve of Ben's sweater.

**

"I'm pretty sure I've said this about six hundred times in the last couple of weeks," says Ben, and he puts his hand on her knee, "but are you okay? Really, I mean." 

Georgie says nothing, because she doesn't know what she ought to say. _Peachy! Just suddenly immensely sexually attracted to you, to the point that I can barely function in your presence. That's all. Oh, and by the way, it was that movie of yours that did it._

No.

"You've been funny with me lately," Ben says gently. "And I want to talk about it because I don't want us to fall out. Have I been doing something to upset you?"

 _Just having insanely good genes and a demeanour that makes me want to tear off your clothes,_ Georgie thinks.

"Please talk to me," Ben says, and his voice breaks a little. His hand drops from her knee and he rubs his forehead. "I don't know what's happened if you don't tell me. Did I say something, or do something...?"

Georgie realises that this is now the third question she hasn't answered, and she should probably come up with some sort of excuse to make this conversation end. But she can't think of anything. She can't think of _anything_ Ben's done lately that would make her act like this, because of course he hasn't been doing anything different at all. It's just _her_ that's different now.

"I miss talking to you," Ben says, in a quiet and sincere voice, and he nudges her gently with his elbow, smiling and trying to get her to smile too. But she can't, and eventually he tires of waiting for an answer from her and goes to find it elsewhere.

**

"I don't know what you're talking about, she seems fine to me," is the only answer he gets from Skandar, though, when he goes to interrogate the boys about it. 

"Okay, but she's clearly not," Ben says impatiently. "Not with me, anyway."

"Well, maybe you did something to piss her off."

"Like _what?_ What did I do? She won't tell me, and I can't think of anything."

"Maybe it's not something you actually did, directly," Will P. chimes in. He is actually trying to steer Ben away from the right track, but he can tell by Skandar's glare that this isn't the way to do it. 

"What does that mean?" Ben asks, whirling round to look at Will. "What does that mean??" he asks Skandar, when Will only shrugs sheepishly.

"I think what Will means," Skandar says, giving Will a Look, "is that maybe Georgie's just generally being weird and like...hormonal or something. Maybe it's that time of the month."

"For two and a half weeks?" 

Skandar shrugs.

Ben makes an exasperated noise and slumps down on the bed. "I just want to try and make things right. But I don't know how if I don't know what's actually _wrong._ "

Will P. takes pity on him, at this. "She...may have seen...something," he admits quietly. "We may all have seen something. That we shouldn't have seen. And maybe been a little bit scarred for life by it."

For a brief moment, Ben's face is screwed up in confusion, and then very quickly, he connects the dots. "I—what—you—" he stammers hotly. "I told you you couldn't see it!"

"Yes, but when do we ever do what you tell us," Skandar points out, and then gives Will another glare for dragging the two of them into this. "We only went to see it so we could make fun of you. But Ben, mate. You're _really_ sexual in that film. It was disturbing for us."

"Well, I did tell you not to see it," Ben says angrily. "I don't think you can blame me."

He's feeling a little panicky now. Not to mention _stupid._ Did he really think they'd all just forget about the movie entirely just because he told them not to see it? And how did he not make the connection between that and the way everybody has been so shifty around him lately? And how, _how_ could anyone let _Georgie_ see it? His face goes hot at the thought of Georgie sitting there in the cinema seeing 95% of his naked body across a giant screen. Seeing him pretending to have sex with all those actresses, making out with those actors. Oh, _god_. No _wonder_ she's been so weird with him.

"How could you let Georgie see it? Have you got no sense of responsibility at all? She's not even _old_ enough to see it. Did you not think that _maybe_ that was a bit of a stupid idea? That maybe it would disturb her more than it would disturb you?" Ben is aware that he's ranting, but he doesn't care. There's some strange sense of protectiveness that's flowing through him right now, and he feels so fucking _angry_ that anyone could be so stupid as to expose Georgie to something like that movie. He almost feels bad for taking the part in the first place, though he knows that's irrational.

"We didn't just take her along with us," Skandar spits out crossly, offended. "We told her she couldn't come, and she went on her own. It wasn't _our_ fault. Maybe you should be yelling at _her_ instead."

"It's not her fault either! She didn't know!"

"Well then, whose fault is it?"

"It's nobody's _fault_ ," comes Will P.'s quiet voice from the corner. He's fidgeting, uncomfortable with seeing the two of them fight like this. "Georgie just wanted to support your career, Ben. I'm sure she didn't completely understand the consequences, and now she's feeling uncomfortable having seen you like that. There's nothing you can do about the fact that she saw the film, so maybe there's no point in getting angry about that and you could focus on how to make things better with her."

There's a moment of silence, as Ben thinks about this, beginning to calm down. "You're right. I know. I'm sorry." He pauses again. "I just—I don't know what to say to her. I can't take back what she saw. She _knows_ it's just acting."

"So did we, but it was still pretty weird," Skandar points out. "We got over it, though."

"Yes, well, she's younger," Ben sighs. "God, I don't know what to do."

"Maybe you should just talk to her again," Will P. suggests.

**

And so, talk to her he does. 

"This is going to be awkward," he tells her, wrinkling his nose as he sits down opposite her on her bed. 

She puts down the book she's reading, and looks worried.

"I...I know you saw _Dorian Gray_ ," he says, figuring it's best just to get that part out of the way. "And...I'm assuming—but you can correct me if I'm wrong—that that's why you've been funny with me lately. And I'm not mad at you, and I'm not mad at you for going to see it in the first place, because I'm sure you were just trying to support me and I do appreciate that, I really do. I should have been clearer about why I didn't want you all to see it, but...the truth is, I was embarrassed. I _am_ embarrassed."

Georgie isn't looking at him, just looking down at her hands where they lie in her lap, and fiddling with a ring she's wearing.

"And I just," Ben soldiers on, "I know that you _know_ that it was just acting, but it was still me up there on the screen and I can understand why that would make you feel uncomfortable. It made _me_ feel uncomfortable!" He tries to joke, but she doesn't laugh. "And anyway, I don't want it to ruin, you know, our friendship. But I don't know...what to do to fix things."

Georgie actually goes so far as to shut her eyes at this, and Ben's heart sinks.

"I'm really sorry," he says, his voice going sort of wavery. 

He didn't realise until now just how sorry he _is_ , how he feels like he's ruined her innocence or something. He knows she would have seen things like that at some point anyway—maybe she even had already, before—but _him_ being involved has obviously made things so much more confusing for her. Suddenly he feels so _selfish_ , for taking the part without thinking about what it might lead to, for only thinking of himself and what such a role would mean for him. He didn't once stop to consider the reactions of people like Georgie. He doesn't know if he should have, but it definitely feels like it.

She's still not saying anything, just twisting that ring round and round her finger. Impulsively, he reaches out and takes her hands in his, holding them still. She jumps at the touch, and her cheeks redden a little.

"I'm sorry," he says again. "I know you must have been disturbed by it, and you probably think I'm some kind of...gross...sex maniac now or something, and you're probably disgusted by my entire being—"

At that, Georgie laughs, which is unexpected. But then she goes quiet again. She shakes her head, getting the hair out of the way of her eyes without taking her hands from between his. "I don't...I'm not disgusted by you," she says. (He notices she still won't look him in the eye, though.)

"Well, that's a relief," he says. "We couldn't be friends if you were disgusted by me all the time."

This coaxes a smile from her. "And I wasn't disturbed by it," she adds. "I mean, it was...it was weird. But not...bad-weird. Not—I mean. Oh, damn. I can't explain. It was almost like the opposite."

Ben feels like he's losing track of the conversation at this point. "The opposite?" he asks, baffled. "You mean, what...you weren't disturbed _enough?_ " He grins, teases, "Should it have been kinkier?" (He says it without thinking, and then feels a bit weird about it, but he figures if she's seen the movie she can probably deal with hearing him say that word.)

Georgie laughs. "Noooo," she says. "That's not what I mean."

"Okay," Ben says, and finds himself laughing too, mostly out of relief that this isn't going anywhere near as horrendously as he imagined. "Then...in that case...what you do mean is..."

He genuinely can't figure it out (or, won't let himself try, perhaps) but when she looks up at him, actually looks into his eyes, somehow he gets it. Whereas before it was a challenge to get her to make eye contact for more than a split second, now her gaze is fixed on his and her expression is serious, pained, apologetic, embarrassed—all at once. And he understands.

"O-oh," he says, quietly. "Oh."

He lets go of her hands, almost immediately, starts to draw them back to himself, but Georgie grabs them, looking slightly panicked now as well.

"Oh god, don't hate me," she bursts out. "I don't know what happened, I just—and you—and it's not even—"

"I don't _hate_ you," Ben interrupts, "I'm just struggling to figure out what I'm supposed to do in this situation."

Georgie frowns, loosens her grip on his hands a little. "What you're _supposed_ to do?" she repeats, and she sounds upset. "Well, maybe don't just do what you're _supposed_ to do, do what you actually feel like doing."

"Oh, no," he says softly, too quickly to realise what he's saying and stop himself, "I can't do that."

She looks at him. She looks sad, hurt. And it feels like what's just happened over the past few weeks is the equivalent of him taking her virginity and then tossing her aside like she means nothing to him.

"You mean so much to me, Georgie, you know that," he says, stroking his thumb against the soft skin of the back of her hand. "I—I love you," he says, and then realises that's quite probably the first time he's ever told her that. "I just—you're. You're _half_ my age. You're fourteen. We can't—" he stops, wonders how they got here, how he's saying these words. "We can't."

"But do you want to?" Georgie asks in a very small voice.

Ben inhales sharply. "Don't ask me that," he whispers.

"How about if I still feel like this when I'm sixteen?" she asks playfully, but he can tell that the thought of waiting two years is killing her. "Or eighteen? Because I know that I will."

"We can't set a _date_ ," Ben laughs.

They go quiet, just looking at each other, and Ben's heart aches for her. He feels horribly guilty—for this, for everything. He's never thought of her this way, at least not clearly in his mind in a way he entirely realised, but now that he knows how she feels, all he wants to do is kiss her and tell her it's going to be okay. He knows she can't see why this is so wrong, not the same way he can, and he knows there's nothing he can do to make her understand. He knows it just seems like he's rejecting her, like he's saying she's too immature or he cares more about what people think. He's been attracted to people too old for him before. He knows how it feels.

"Come here," he murmurs, and he reaches out to wrap his arms around her, pull her into a hug. His heart beats so quickly against her chest, as he holds her tight and strokes her back through the thin cotton of her t-shirt.

She tucks her chin over his shoulder, nuzzles into his long hair. Her shaky inhale sounds like she might be close to tears. "I just..." she whispers, and he feels the words against his ear, "I just want you so bad."

Ben smiles against her shoulder, a little startled—but in a good way, maybe, he thinks—by the words. "I know," he says.

"No, you don't," Georgie says, voice wavering even more now. "You have no idea."

And god—the fact that this is _Georgie_ saying these things—Ben doesn't know how to deal with it. What does she want? And how can _Georgie_ want anything like that? From _him?_ He feels like she grew up overnight, and it doesn't make this any easier.

"I want..." Georgie says, and she laughs a little, low and embarrassed in his ear, "I want you to do what you did with the people in the movie. To me." She pauses, and he hears her swallow. "I think about it all the time."

Ben lets out an unsteady breath, gazes up as though he's looking to the heavens for help. "I can't do that," he breathes.

"I know," Georgie whispers. "But I want you to."

She presses her face into the crook of his shoulder, and he feels her lips against his skin. It takes him a second to realise that she's kissing him—actually kissing him, mouthing at the fabric of his t-shirt and working her way up to his neck.

"Oh, Georgie," he says, knowing he should stop her. But he can't. 

He hisses when he feels her soft, warm lips against the bare skin of his neck, his jaw. Her hands slide round from his back to his waist, where they rest, small and steady. She presses a kiss just beside his lips and then draws back a little, looks at him, big blue eyes just a little tearful. 

He's parting his lips to meet the kiss before it even comes.


End file.
